


Lu

by sexiudreams (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Series: LuTao [1]
Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Non-EXO Lu Han, Prostitute Lu Han, Smoking, Z.Tao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/sexiudreams
Summary: Huang Zitao is at his signing party, but he's not happy. He would rather be anyone else. He would rather be back home in Korea, with his brothers, laughing and joking, but that's never going to happen again. So he escapes from his party for a breath of air... but just who is the mysterious stranger, lurking in the shadows of the alley way?





	Lu

The lights shone at the party, reflecting off Zitao’s eyes and making it hard to see anything past a few feet. He should be happy to be here, excited even; it was his own signing party, but there was something he just couldn’t shake. He shouldn’t be here; he should be in Korea with his eleven brothers. Not in China, signed down as a solo act, with a solo album ready to drop onto the Chinese music charts. Tao sighed and picked up his glass, taking a long sip of whatever alcoholic substance was inside. He put it down with a heavy thud he felt in the wooden table, but didn’t hear over the thumping music. Staring into the light liquid, Zitao sighed, thinking back on Korea.

 

Yifan. Chanyeol. Yixing. Baekhyun. Minseok. Kyungsoo. Jongin. Sehun. Junmyeon. Jongdae.

 

He should be in their dorm with them all, not sat here, alone, without them. But things in Korea were tense, and even if he hadn’t left the group, he was sure as an unemployed Chinese man, even paying rent, they wouldn’t have allowed him to stay. After another long sip, he took his phone out of his pocket, glancing around at the chaos of the party again, before flicking his eyes downward to his phone.

 

_Minseok: hey! Congrats on being signed! Can’t wait to hear your first single!_

_Kris: Can’t wait to see you on the charts man_

_Baekkie: HAPPY SIGNING DAY BABY BRO! GOOD LUCK!_

 

There were messages from all of them, all in the same context. Sent individually, not to the group chat. Zitao frowned and opened messages, only to find the group chat was gone from his messages. He sighed and dropped his phone; probably a manager had insisted that he be removed, but it felt like a betrayal. No. He was the one who had betrayed them, he had left, he had abandoned them. He deserved to be removed from that chat.

 

He needed air. He wanted out. He didn’t want this. He wanted to be with his brothers, back in the past, laughing with them, watching Baekhyun tease Sehun, Kyungsoo terrify Chanyeol, Yixing and Yifan murmuring and rolling their eyes as they tried to watch their shows over the din. Zitao rubbed his face and staggered through the crowd. He wanted to go outside, he felt like his chest was constricting, like it was too tight.

 

Someone grabbed him, and he was spun round, face to face with his manager and a large amount of people. “Here’s the man of the hour!” Zitao plastered his fake smiles as his manager introduced him to the group of people, names lost to the music as soon as people yelled them. He nodded along to whatever they said, and finally, after what seemed like a life time, escaped outside. Zitao looked around, before slinking into a small alley way by the building, heading down it so no fans might see him. Sparking a cigarette, he leant against the wall and took a long inhalation, letting the smoke burn his throat before breathing it out through his nose.

 

Zitao still couldn’t understand. He should be happy, right now. His album came out in less than a year – his first single dropped at the end of the week, his friends and family were, mostly, all with him. He was succeeding, on his own, with a decent pay, no abuse, and he felt alive for the first time in years. But still, he felt like a part of him was dead. He couldn’t bring himself to feel happiness. No matter how much he tried to smile, he knew, somehow, this would end. In one way or the other, this would be snatched from him.

 

Zitao was just bringing his cigarette to his lips for a second drag, when he became aware of someone stood close by, crouched down from the street lights behind a dumpster. He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not giving anyone any autographs.”  
  
A curt laugh followed his words. “I don’t know who you are. You’re in my alley. Do you want a fuck or not?”  
  
Zitao raised his eyebrows at the gruff voice, and slowly turned his head to them fully. He couldn’t see them in their position. “A fuck?”  
  
“I’m a prostitute, this is where I do business with celebrities. Do you want to fuck or not?”  
  
Zitao shook his head, and watched them stand. Zitao couldn’t make much out from the shadows, but the street light at the start of the alley offered enough light for him to make out some of their features. Male, he assumed, but with feminine features. His face was short, with a rounded chin, and a nose that wasn’t. Anything out of the ordinary. It fitted him perfectly. His eyes were almond shaped, but dropped down slightly, giving him the look of being sad. His eyes, however, were set. Determination screamed out of them as he raised his eyebrow. Zitao stared, as he took a step forward, pinching the cigarette from Zitao’s fingers. Zitao raised his own eyebrow as he leaned against the wall, and let his eyes drag downwards.

 

The man was wearing a skirt, tartan, red and black, with ripped black tights covering pale legs. Usual sneakers were on his feet, red, probably to match the skirt, and Zitao had to give him kudos for wanting to stay comfortable on the job. He wore a leather jacket, with numerous badges and pins that Zitao couldn’t make out, and a plain white shirt underneath, that had rips throughout the fabric. His hair seemed to be a pink colour, but with the contrast of light and dark, Zitao couldn’t be sure. “You always take the rugged look on the job?”  
  
“Most of my… customers prefer me to look rather beaten up. Turns them on, for some reason.”

 

Zitao raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Anyone I would know?”  
  
The prostitute laughed and finished Zita’s cigarette. He chucked it down, stomping it out with his sneakers, before turning his attention to Zitao fully. “So, again, do you want to fuck, or are you going to get out of my alley?”

 

Zitao went to leave, took a step towards the alley’s opening, before he stopped. It had been a long time since he had done anything sexual, and even if it was just a quick fuck, it was something. He turned his head to look over his shoulder a little. “How much?”

* * *

Zitao threw the man onto his bed with ease, and smirked at his small gasp. The man blinked before looking up, grinning. Zitao laughed and ripped his jacket off, chucking it to the ground before kneeling on the bed, leaning down to kiss up the tights, letting his lips linger on any portion of skin he could find in the tears. The man watched him before Zitao’s hands found the hem of the skirt. Immediately, Zitao scowled as his hand was knocked away. The man delicately unzipped it and slipped it off, letting it drop to the floor. Zitao smirked and immediately appreciated that the man wasn’t wearing any underwear under the tights. He let his eyes drag down, before he tackled the man’s shirt, his jacket left at Zitao’s apartment door when they first got there.

 

Quickly, they found themselves naked, Zitao on top of him, lips attached, and nails dragging. Zitao let a moan slip out of his lips as the man’s nail cut into his skin, leaving small scratches down his biceps, and kissed harder, before breaking apart. He didn’t look away from the man’s eyes – deep brown, and hypnotising – as he searched his bedside table for lube. The man grabbed his hand, reaching up to kiss along his jaw bone. “I’m already prepared, just fuck me.”  
  
Zitao made a soft growling noise, before flipping him over and running his hands down his legs. Sure enough, a butt plug nestled between his ass cheeks, the tell tale shine of lube able to be seen here and there. Zitao smirked and slowly reached a hand to pull it out. The man let out a whine, and Zitao kissed down his spine. “Getting eager?”  
  
The man laughed, his reply cut off with a moan as Zitao slipped a finger into him, checking he was fully prepped. The man rutted back, groaning, and Zitao tutted, slipping his finger out. Easily enough, he shed his boxers and lined up, pressing into him.

* * *

They lay in silence afterwards, smoking together, and watching the smoke curl up towards the ceiling. The sun was just starting to come up, and Zitao moved his head to watch the man. He lay on his back, fully outstretched, smoking softly. His chest barely moved, and Zitao let his eyes take him in all.

 

His pale chest was scarred, marred, and had cuts still healing. His legs were much the same, as was his stomach. A few scars sat on his throat, and bruises marred his skin. Zitao frowned and reached out, stroking his hand over one of the bruises. The man’s eyes flickered open, and his stomach sucked inward to avoid his hand.  
  
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to aggravate it.”

 

The man shook his head. “Just took me by surprise.”

 

Zitao leaned back down so he was resting on his elbow, a hand dragging up and down his guest’s hip. “So, what is your name?”  
  
The man opened his mouth, only to be distracted by the ringing of his phone. He rolled back over, answering it, and speaking in quick Chinese. Zitao turned his eyes away, not wanting to intrude.  
  
“I have to go.” He stood, and started pulling his tights back on, ever so delicately, and tied his hair back from his face. Zitao watched him get ready and stretch.  
  
“Will I see you again?” He sat up, reaching for his jeans and his wallet, quickly counting out the money he owed him. He handed it over, and he watched the man carefully count it. “No offence.” He smiled and pocketed the money. “I’ve been swindled a few times.”  
  
Zitao raised his hands and tugged the duvet over him as the man walked towards the door. He paused, looking back over his shoulder. “If you want me again, just ask around for Lu.” And with the sound of a jacket being picked up, footsteps, and the door slamming, he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to go into more sexual content, but I decided to save it for later chapters; this was meant to be a one shot, but I have a bit of a plot coming through now I wrote this up.


End file.
